


Can I not?

by PriNc3C0mpleX



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I hate tagging, M/M, Mentions of Post Trauma Stress Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Bipolar Personality Disorder, i use repitition so it might get annoying, just poetic shit, read the note!!, the dude almost dies so watch out for that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 01:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PriNc3C0mpleX/pseuds/PriNc3C0mpleX
Summary: Graphic descriptions of violenceMentions of Post Trauma Stress Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Bipolar Personality Disorder
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou





	Can I not?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The sorry person reading this.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+sorry+person+reading+this.).



> Graphic descriptions of violence  
> Mentions of Post Trauma Stress Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Bipolar Personality Disorder

It was so cold.  
My body shivered in my shoulders l as and overwhelming sensation grew in my throat.  
It was so cold.  
Gusts of wind brushed upon my faces, tickling my nostrils as I gulped the air in.  
It was so cold.  
Drops of rain that fell from the gray sky that swirled with dark clouds and empty tree branches clinked and clanked against my metal roof.  
It was so cold.  
My window was opened no more that 6 six inches but the sounds of the gentle, calming rain that picked up every now and then invaded my head filled with thoughts.  
It was so cold.  
I pulled the blue and white comforter that didn't match my sheets over my shoulders and along my shivering body.  
It was so cold.  
The air smelled so nostalgic. It was a sense of deja vu. I don't know why but I wanted more of that scent. That scent gave me comfort.  
It was so cold.  
My room, illuminated by nothing more than the moonlight that shined through the cracked window next to my bed. My sheets of unfinished work swayed with the wind on my desk.  
It was so cold.  
But the voices in my head kept me company. If only I could convinced ce myself that they weren't real. Alex, Lancer, Mila, Aiden and Quincy. I liked their names. I gave them their names. I liked them. They consoled me. I've never liked myself, so why is it that, fragments of my imagination give me such confirmation?.  
It wasn't cold any longer.  
Wind had stop coming in and out and once again, it was hot. Warm and damp. It was hard to breathe. I needed to leave.  
I wasn't cold any longer.  
I put on a black rain coat and lifted the hood over my thin, blond hair. I put on my shoes. I liked to run in them. They made me feel like I was fast, athletic. Something I knew I wasn't.  
It wasn't cold any longer.  
I started to get impatient. While my head told me to tie my shoes, I would fall if not. I wanted to leave because it was hot. With a false creak I opened the door.  
It was cold again.  
And damp.  
The air was thick and freezing it burned my nostrils.  
I wanted to be hot again.  
I didn't like the way my body shivered in the air. I felt like everyone was judging me because i was cold.  
I wanted to be cold again.  
I hate being hot. I like being cold.  
I hate the weather.  
I don't want to be anything.  
I want to not.  
I stood there. Listening to the pretty honks from the read ends of cars. Green light illuminating on my body for the stop lights was all that I saw I didn't.  
I didn't like it. I wanted it to stop.  
Everything hurt.  
I didn't know what was going on.  
The beeps from the cars in traffic had stopped and moments after. Ear piercing screeching sirens annoyed me.  
My ribs hurt. My head felt like it was going to compress into a little ball. My eyes glazed over.  
Tears?...  
I wasn't crying. Im not sad. Im annoyed.  
At the pain, at the cold, at the hot, at myself, at the sirens.  
My hands were warm and wet with water, red water was spilled all over the place. I wanted to squirm and get a rag to lap up the liquid spilling on the ground.  
Blackness stopped me.  
I couldn't see, nor feel.  
I wasn't there. Im not me. Its not me. What am is? What was that. Why is that? When are you? Where is that? Can I not? Can I not? Can I not? Can I not? Can I not? Can I not? Can I not? Can I not?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, loves...sorry again.


End file.
